At the Edge of the Eye

Happy storm that wrecks a man on such a rock as this!  O blessed hurricane that drives the soul to God and God alone! ~CH Spurgeon

Living in the South, I've learned a bit about hurricanes.   One of the problems with them is that they are not just rain.  They are full of wind and rain.  Not only is there damage in the form of downed trees and powerlines, but also flooding can occur.  In addition, often tornadoes are spawned.  When the hurricane batters the shore, entire landscapes are changed.  And I know what kind of pressure to hope for when a hurricane comes wandering our way.

While I grew up in the North, I do have memories of Agnes.   When she came, she caused widespread flooding.  All over Eastern PA, there are high water marks designating flooding in 1972.   When we were moving my parents, I came across a Valentines Day card written by my brother with the lines, "My love for you is like the Susquehanna River in 1972.  Overflowing!"   I always thought it was a bit humorous to think that while Agnes was known for extensive flooding, we spent a portion of the storm hiding in our basement.  Moments before heading down the basement stairs, my frantic mother chastised my father for racing around the back yard in a hail storm to rescue the trash can lids.  It wasn't until years later that as an adult, I realized that Agnes had given birth to tornadoes in our town and our basement was a safe refuge since we lived on a hill above the river.

The worst part of the hurricane is the eastern side, near the eye wall.  And here is where I have felt I have been for the past several months.  This is where the winds are relentless.  It's where the storm surge pounds away at the shoreline.  In a way, the storm has not been devastating.  However, it has been relentless.  Over and over the wind and the rain has pounded.  In the piece that the above is taken from, it later states:

When he is burdened with troubles so pressing and so peculiar,that he cannot tell them to any but his God,
he may be thankful for them;for he will learn more of his Lord then
than at any other time.Oh, tempest-tossed believer, it is a happy trouble
that drives you to your Father!

This is how most of my burdens have been.  Shared with my husband, and maybe a friend.  Some I've shared with no one.  So pressing and so peculiar....  It matters not what those burdens are for this post.  I've told Ski that the weight I carry is not unbearable nor is it tragic.  It is simply heavy, burdensome and wearying.  It is that continuous crashing of the storm surge that seems endless.  Lightning strikes, tornadoes, rain and wind.  Things that no one sees unless they peak behind the scenes of my outermost life.  More and more.  Over and over.

As  I sat there, I glanced across the aisle and saw the couple who I knew were deeply burdened by troubles  with faces filled with gladness.  I saw the father out of work filled with hope.  I saw  the mother who faced greater and more burdensome trials than I overflowing with joy.  But still, I was disheartened and feeling my mortal frailty.

And yet, in years past, I would have always given into doubts.

Where is God?

Why has He left me?

Why is He unkind?

Where have I failed?

Not so. 
In worship, I sat with tears streaming down my face.  Not always able to sing, but sometimes we worship deeply in tears.  Although my head leaned downward, my heart lifted my cares to the Lord.   In need of the ability to genuinely weep without feelings of awkwardness, I walked toward the door.  I sought refuge in the chilled wind of the morning under the comforting arms of a tree.  There, I bore my soul to my Lord, who I knew without a doubt was with me even in my discouragement.  My Father who listened to my grief,  There was no necessity for me to reveal my cares, for He already knew.  But still I called upon He who had designed each and every burden I faced with deep love for me.  I spilled upon the ground things that none but perhaps my family knew.  The troubles I carry every day which no one sees. 

And I sat there asking Him to fill my heart with gratitude.
I no longer wish to look at the storm clouds as dreadful and looming.  I long to see His glory and workmanship in  tumultuous the power.  There is but one place to put my hold among this sand which shifts and spills about.  There is a rock.  A foundation deeper than any I have made.  Firmer than any I depend upon.  There is the only solace in the storms of my life.  

When I told my dear Ski that I felt I was being hammered by the storm and waves, he gently said:
"You are!!   Hammered into something beautiful!!"
What a blessing he is to me!!

    In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
(1 Peter 1:6-7)

I'm not perfect.
Just a girl.
An ordinary girl.
And every day, I feel like I move one step forward and seemingly two steps back. 
And every day, we live out the verse that is on our blog banner.  
And every day, we consider that the days of adversity are from the hand of our beloved Lord as well as those of prosperity....and there is kindness and joy in them.

Tonight, as I wept again, my son looked at me with worried eyes and all he could pray was "Lord, please help..."  I squeezed him tight and told him, "It's ok.  Sometimes God gives us tears, but He is doing good things!!"

And I really believe it is true.

Wave After Wave

My son asked me the other day if I could swim to the other side of the ocean.
I laughed.
But it wasn't because of the obvious.
Sure, it is a silly thought to think that someone could swim the ocean.  And yes, I did tell him that it wasn't possible.  I also explained to him that when my ancestors came over from Europe, sailing from a port in Rotterdam and aiming for the destination of Philadelphia, it was supposed to take only several months.
But I was thinking of other things.

The sea is one of my favorite places to visit because it causes me to contemplate God.
In fact, I can not fathom how anyone could stand at the end of a stretch of beach and not think about God.  I'm here on a vacation, but  walking the sandy stands and listening to the waves, I think about God, life, and my place in it.

So much has been going on in my life lately.
Added up, it is very little.

It's just the little bits.
Yet, I often feel like life comes at me wave after wave. 
Crashing on the shore of my soul. 
Trying to snatch pieces of my steadfastness until it slowly erodes away. 
I particularly felt the need to clear my head this year.
Not really clear my head.
More like clear my soul.
I feel mentally worn down by just life.
Little things.
The daily grind.
Responsibilities.
Conflict.
Discouragment
The constant barrage of slow and steady trial that hammers away.
Endlessly

So there I found myself standing at the edge of the earth looking out upon the sea.
Feeling helpless.
Feeling sad. 

And then
God stepped in and redirected my gaze.
Through the clouds of my feeble understanding, I began to see things differently.
That sea.....how vast....how vast is my Lord's love for me. 
Endless....
Deep....
Truly vast.
He designed all of this sometimes insane life for my benefit. 
For my growth. 
So I become more like Him.
What I see as wave after wave of trial,
Is wave after wave of goodness and grace.
Constantly pounding and pouring upon my messy life.
Forming it into something else.
Changing my heart.
Ever so slowly....except those times when huge chunks fall away.
Like when the hurricanes come and thrash around me
While the eye settles overhead.

I understood...
It is not my steadfastness that falls away, but my pride and stubbornness and arrogance.
How dependent I am upon the sea. 
Upon the Lord.
He takes bits away and tosses...
No
Beats relentlessly
Goodness upon me.
Showering kindness.
I am flooded with love.
Ever changing me.
Moment after moment.
Trial after trial
Wave after Wave.

One out of 6570.....more or less

 In life, we take so many things for granted.  Every breath we take is a gift.  Things can change in the blink of an eye.  A car skids in the rain.  A fatal diagnosis.  Or even bite of food.

It has been six years.  Six years of breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Six years of travel.  Six years of snacks and treats.  Six years of thousands and millions of moments.  Six years of safety and normalcy.  But in a moment, all of that came crashing in upon us.

6570 every day meals.....not including snacks and treats. Only one was dangerous.

It was a crazy morning.  We often have those.  Hey.....we're a family of eight.  What do you expect?  But one little mistake lead to watching my son once again come unbearably close to death.  It isn't something you wake up expecting to do.  And it isn't something you wait longingly for.  It is unexpected and although you never intended to be human that day, you find yourself feeling incredibly guilt-ridden and sorrowful.

People who know me, our life, our story....they know that we are careful.  People who don't understand think we're a little over the top.  But I have watched my son almost die 7 other times.  I ignore those people who just don't get it.  I just tell myself that if they had seen their child go through what I've seen, they would do just what I do.  And I am sure that they would. 

No one cooks for my son.  No one....unless I trust them.  And in order for me to trust them, they must ask me lots of questions.  If they don't ask, I realize that they're not going to be careful.   I send out feeler questions when I contemplate people cooking for him.  If I get the right kind of answers, I move forward.   I can count on one hand the people I know who have cooked for my son.   He is precious to me and I can't have people who think that they know everything cook for him.  They don't listen.  They don't write things down.  They aren't going to call me and ask if this or that is ok. You would think I would hate questions.  But no...  I welcome them.  It shows me the level of concern that someone has.  Too many questions does not exist in my life.  I really don't care if I offend people because I'd rather be offensive than loose the life of my son!!

So on that beautiful Thursday, I sat in a hospital room next to my son watching him turn colors and listening as his breath turned into a shrill whistle.  In fact, it took me a moment to realize that the noise I heard was coming from my son.  Ski, sitting behind me,  heard it too and thought it was a machine.  It was a sound I have never heard before and never wish to again.    And it was on that day that I heard his small, worried voice utter his hope that he would make it to his next birthday.........Sept 4.   And as sense came to me, I realized that in that moment, he really felt like he was going to die.   I admit, while I KNEW he was in the best place he could be, there was a part of me that worried about that as well.  The medics had offered to refuse transport.  I shudder to think what would have happened if we had done so.  Two hours after his reaction at home, he had a second one in the ER after being dosed with benedryl and prednisone.  He was given more epi, more pred, and albuterol via nebulizer.  It was FAST.  Incredibly fast.  I have never seen have a reaction progress that fast.  He had never had a biphasic reaction before.

And then, when we finally came home safe and sound the next day, there was the aftermath.  It's the time when I pick up the pieces.  The people around him work through the guilt.  How could I have made a mistake?  Why wasn't I more careful?  We cope with how we feel about people incredulously asking "How did that happen?" as if we are perfect and not human.  And he works through fears.

With every reaction we have had, I have tried to teach him something.   This one was especially frightening to him because he doesn't remember much from the other ones he has had.  We practiced with the epipen.  We talked about what he should say to other people if mom isn't around.  We work through the loneliness and the fear.  We work through how he feels like a freak because people want to know what happened and not many ask him how he is doing.  We talk about how he felt incredibly touched that our pastor came to see him.  It spoke volumes to him that someone cared enough to visit him and see how he was doing, and to pray for him.  I know just how he feels.  In the midst of my discouragement, Ski got a text from someone who told us that they were praying for us.  And they specifically mentioned the rest of our family.  It is an incredibly difficult thing to watch someone have a life threatening allergic reaction.  They are all different.  All unpredictable.  All have a degree of tramatizing results upon the rest of us.  As parents, we cannot tend to the fears and worries of all of our children who we have left behind at the house.  Sure, some of them are older.  But it is hard to watch you little brother walk through something like that....no matter what your age.  And it is harder still to not have your family's support and to not know what is going on.

For me, the spiritual aspects are clear and I am doing very well there.  In fact, I can see much of God's Providential hand.  I think overall, this will be beneficial experience to him in the future.  I would never have chosen it this way, but there is much to learn from and remember!!!  I can also see how circumstances in the past allowed us to be in just the right place when his second reaction took place.  If we had not been in the hospital when that occurred, I am not so sure he would have survived.   However, the emotional side.....well, it has been a hard week or so.   We walk slowly through this, healing as we go.  Taking each day at a time....lots of hugs and talk.

So this September 4th, we will all be celebrating like we haven't before.  We are so grateful for the life of our son and our brother.  So glad that this boy has had such a miraculous life so far at the tender age of 10.  So amazed to see his response in the midst of suffering and how he cared most about the others around him who were also suffering.  And thankful that God hears the tiny and desperate pleas in our time of need for just a little more time.

Happy Birthday Isaac!!!!  You're my hero!!


And one last thing....If you have life threatening food allergies, or you're a parent or guardian to someone who does, please, please, please....
1) ALWAYS have two epipens
2) Don't ever hesitate to use them if you suspect an allergic reaction
3) Always call 911
4) NEVER refuse transport

If you're reading this and newly diagnosed, feel free to post and ask for help!!  There are some awesome resources out there that can help you navigate these difficult days.  

Can I introduce you to someone?

Each year around this time, I ask myself "was it 8/9/98 or 8/8/98?"  As it turns out, sixteen years ago today, I got to hold the body of my still-born son, Asher, for the first and last time on this side of eternity. Only a few people got to be with his body that day.  It was a quiet and poignant scene as opposed to most births I've been to where there was much more activity, noise, exuberance etc.  I have a few photos taken during that time that we've shown to only a small group of close friends over the years so as not to freak people out. Most folks (including someone today) have counted it a privilege to see some of the items in the "Asher box" and are grateful that we would consider them close enough friends to want to share with them at that level. You also learn when you have a child die that there are hundreds of people around you that have lost children and they carry that experience with them, but hardly ever speak of it. There are many reasons for that but if it helps, here I am thinking about the whole thing and here are some of my thoughts as well...

Over the years I've come up with a self-doctrine of what I believe about his soul, how "old" he will be when I see him in heaven, the fact that he's there, what he may be doing etc. etc.  I know that Asher will be someone I will meet in heaven.  I know I will have a level of understanding that I lack right now and I believe part of that will be a more complete awareness of who people are and what they've been through for God's glory.  I know he'll recognize me and I hope he'll call me "Daddy" (tearing up now, sorry).  I long to hear that voice almost as much as I long to see the face of my Saviour and hear God's "well done". I don't know if Asher's will be the voice of a little boy or the strong muscled hug of a man who has been working on my eternal mansion as a craftsman or something.  But I long to hold him and see in his eyes a living spirit.  I'm sure I'll be a blubbering mess.

I've decided over the years to leave an occasional item at his gravesite.  I know this probably constitutes littering, but I don't care.  I kiss his name on the stone when I visit and I left him toy cars and other small items over the years. When he would've turned 21, I'll be cracking open a cold one and leaving it for him. I formally decided to live my life totally for Christ when I was 16.  So this year I'll be leaving a small Bible for Asher. Though for sixteen years Asher has been worshipping at the throne of the Almighty with thousands upon thousands of angels and God's people that have gone on before us. So he probably doesn't need a Bible to fellowship with Jesus like I do. But he'll get one anyway.

I remember people "not knowing what to say", but just being there with a smile, a hug and a tear.  Folks, that means SO MUCH to those who are experiencing loss. Don't ever discount doing that. And don't stop talking to people because you don't know what to say.  It doesn't matter how smart or stupid you think you sound.  The fact that you're there is what they'll remember long after the grace to go through such things fades away.  Bob K., Mike P., Steve S., David C., Trish M., I remember you and countless others who were at the funeral and the days before and after.  You were not, as Job called his friends "miserable counselors".  Today I try to emulate your example of "just being there" and caring when I'm aware of folks who are suffering.

I have one last thing I need to say.  We also, at some point, had a miscarriage that we didn't carry to full term like Asher.  We named that child Grace.  I know much less about her that I do my son.  I haven't seen her, held her or have any concrete knowledge of what's happened to her.  I tend not to think about her as much since the experience was very different. But I need to say that I love her as much as Asher or any of my living children and I look forward to that sweet reunion with her as well in heaven.

So happy sweet 16 Asher.  I love you and I can't wait to see you again.

Dad

Forget-Me-Not

I've debated several times about writing about this subject.  It's highly personal for me.  But, I tend to always imagine that no one ever reads this blog.  So I feel a small bit of bravery in posting.  The month of June has been a difficult one for me.  I haven't talked about it much.   

June holds within it two special days for me.  The first is Father's day and the second is my father's birthday.  This year he turned 81.  It especially his me hard when I thought of him and could not call to say happy birthday.  The pain was compounded by the fact that Ski went out of town days later for a surprise birthday celebration for his father who is turning 75.  When dad turned 80 last year, it quietly slipped by us.   And this year, it was the same.  I was heartbroken.  Last night, I wept as I missed my daddy and all I wanted to do was give him a call.   

I could have called.  But I didn't.  There are a few reasons why.  Number one is that my father doesn't talk much anymore.  He lives life as more of a bystander.  More observation than participation happens.  And the second reason is the fact that he really doesn't remember me anymore.  

So as Father's Day approached, I felt incredibly lonely.  As I scrolled down Facebook and saw the loving tributes to fathers who had passed away, I hurt.  And as I saw lovely things people did for their dads, I hurt.   And when my husband picked up the phone to call his father, the flood gates opened and I cried and cried.  And no one quite understood.  

Only a month earlier, I had gone to visit my dad.  He has Congestive Heart Failure and he's not doing well.  He had been in the hospital for awhile and we now know that really, there is nothing more to be done for his heart.  It is very weak.  So, I decided to visit so I could say goodbye....not really in words, but just by seeing him and spending time with him.  The first time I walked into the room, I had expected his face to light up.  But as I entered, he almost looked bewildered.  And as I greeted him, I knew he wasn't sure who I was.  And when he called me by his aunt's name, Marguerite, it was all I could do to keep my composure.  

Where my father lives is one floor below where I spent most of my weeks at work in PA.  I cared for people with Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, Dementia, ALS, and people who were just aging.  I loved my patients and they became my family.  I shared with them about my life outside the walls, and even if they couldn't speak to me, I spoke to them as I fed them and readied them for bed.   I was bit, kicked and scratched.  My hair was pulled and I came home with bruises and tales from the day.  And when it was time for them to die, I sat with them, held their hands, and comforted them.  No matter who it was, I would stroke their hair and hold their hand and tell them that they were not alone and it was ok to die.  Many times, I was the only one who would do it.  Many of the girls were afraid of death and dying.  So often, I would sit there alone and even stay into the next shift loving them as they died.  And then I would perform the required aftercare.  For me, it became a very spiritual experience to prepare them for when the mortician would arrive. In fact, I have enjoyed that part of my work so much that when my children are grown, I would like to at least volunteer for Hospice work.

All of that said, there is NOTHING that can prepare you for the day your parent forgets who you are.  My father and I were quite close.  I am a daddy's girl....and proud of it!!  I was the only girl and we had that daddy/daughter kind of relationship.  I still call him my daddy.  And as I have grown older, I have learned that my compassion, humor, and impishness are all lovely gifts I have gained from my father. 

I used to think that the hardest thing about having a parent with Dementia would be how all of the new people in his life would never know the incredible man that I know.  My father rarely speaks now.  Only yes or no most of the time.  He was always so witty and smart.  He was a gifted musician and filled with compassion.  As a pastor, it was obvious that his greatest gift was in his care for people.  The shut-ins and hospitalized people would always look forward to his visits.  But I now realize that I was mistaken.  The hardest challenge for me is not how other people perceive my father, but instead how he looks at me.   I am someone he doesn't really know.  A more distant relationship.  I am no longer the daughter who married a man who reminded her of her father.  I am more like a stranger who he doesn't know. 

Someday, when we have both left this life, I long to see my father once again.....and see that familiar recognition in his eyes when he sees my face.  I long to hear him speak to me and tell me about his childhood and the devilish things he used to do.  His stories would make you laugh so much!!!   And I long to hear him sing about the Jesus he loved so much.   And to hear him play the trombone once again.   Until then, I think I might weep at every hymn I hear.  I often cannot sing as I hear my daddy's lovely baritone voice sing the notes of the old well loved hymns.  

Happy Birthday, Daddy!!!   

Reflections on Life without Sweetness

So.....I did it.  Or almost.  I have 24 hours at least to go, but this is the easy part.

What did I do?
I survived two weeks without sugar.
Oh wait....there's more.
It was also two weeks without artificial sweetener.
And....
Without natural sweeteners like stevia, honey, and all of those other funny things that half of you have never heard of.
None.
Oh....and no alcohol.
Oh....wait.   There was one exception.
I did eat bread.  Bread I made myself.  And if you have ever made bread, you will know that it is really hard to make bread without any sugar for the yeast to eat.  But divided into portions for eating, the sugar in the bread did not amount to anything to speak of.

I was actually allowed to have sugar if it was included way down on the ingredient list.  I wasn't sure how to gauge that so I pretty much limited myself to none with the exception of my bread and about the total of  about an ounce of salad dressing divided into two occasions.

All fruits and veggies were allowed.

I found this easier than I thought it would be.  And there were some surprising results.

The first few days were the worst.  On about day two, I developed a wicked headache.  I don't know if it was related to sugar or not.  It could have been caffeine related.  However, I really think it was the lack of sugar.

I am not a huge sweet eater.  But the strangest thing happened.  The first few days, all I could do was think of sweet things to eat.  Brownies, cake, cookies, ice cream....anything sweet.  I think it was the mere fact that I had decided not to eat it that my brain was trying to convince me otherwise.  In fact, on one of those days, friends asked us to the movies.  When we got our tickets, we got a free snack of sour patch kids.  I do not like fruity, chewy candy.  I do not like sour candy....except while I was pregnant with one of my kids.  But sitting next to Ski while he had a few, I almost could not stand it.  I could smell the sugar.  Thankfully, the movie was really good so I was able to concentrate on that instead. 

Lucky me, my grocery shopping days also fell during this time.  I had already realized that when I was tired, overwhelmed, and stressed, those were the times that I really was challenged food-wise.  And so, I knew it was coming.  I stayed close to home and only did half of my shopping.  I made it home alive and unscathed from any mishaps.

We also happened to go out on a date during this time.  I ended up actually choosing a place I don't normally like to eat at...Panera.   It took me close to 45 minutes to figure out what to eat.  We sat at a table, menu in one hand, Ski's phone in the other.  One of the surprising things I found was that almost every single salad dressing I have looked at contains some form of sweetener.  Panera unfortunately does not have an oil and vinegar option.  So after going through a number of dressings, I found one that had much less sugar, asked for it on the side, and used it sparingly.  

As an aside, I found only four cereals in the mainstream market which are completely devoid of sugar/sweetener.  Also, mayo and veganaise have sugar.  Mustard usually does not.  Dijon mustard did have alcohol, but I was unsure if the sugars remained after processing or not.  In short, in the typical American diet, sugar and sweeteners are everywhere. 

My second challenge was an event including dinner that had been on the calendar.  I knew it was coming and dear Ski discovered the menu for me.  I knew there was a meat as a main course.  Salad would be there.  Bread would be available, but I doubted whole grain and so I made rolls especially for the occasion.  I brought balsamic vinegar and oil for my dressing.  Dessert did not sound promising so I also went out and bought my favorite fruit...an apricot...as my dessert.   I had planned on eating chicken, but when I got there, the chicken had bbq sauce on it.  Instead, I opted for the shredded pork which may have had additional ingredients mixed in, but was a less sugary option since the sauce for that was separate.  I had my salad and roll.  And I was surprised to see a big bowl of chopped fruit at the dessert table so I had some of that....and saved my apricot.

When I craved a drink other than water, I made some peppermint iced tea.

And finally, the last big challenge was when I got sick.  I ended up catching a nasty cold.  I longed for chicken noodle soup so I dragged myself to the store for a chicken and a few other items.  This was a tough trip.  I felt really awful and really wanted to stop for a coffee or something.  No, coffee was not out of bounds, but I'll talk about that later....  But instead, I got my stuff, went home and crashed while my lovely daughter, Hannah, made the most delicious soup ever for me.

So....Here are my major thoughts on the past two weeks

#1  I drank a whole lot more diet soda than I thought I did.   I didn't miss it except for when I was out and running errands.   But I've decided to refrain from artificial sweeteners in the future.

#2  EVERYTHING  tastes better without sweetener in your life.  We might stop by the store and try a sample and as I was raving about how sweet a strawberry was, I'd realize Ski was rather silent.  I'd ask..."Isn't it sweet."  Nope.   Not to him.    The first day was tough, but the second or third day, I'd eat a fresh picked cherry tomato from my garden and it tasted like sugar.  Just think of how many times you have bought fruit just to be disappointed that it was tart.  I didn't experience any of that this week.  I found it fascinating!!   So actually, it wasn't a life without sweetness.

#3 Going no sugar does NOT lead to binging.  Never once did I binge.  I did not give up and I resisted.  I was committed to doing this.

#4 I could never do this long term because ....I'd miss wine.   I really do enjoy having a glass with Ski now and then.

#5  I could never do this long term because....I'd miss chocolate too much.  There is just something about chocolate that I like...the creaminess.  And really, you can't find any chocolate without sugar.   I did find a banana dipped in cocoa powder to really help my chocolate craving.  But it just couldn't take the place of the flavor of good chocolate.   And there's the aspect of desserts.  Every now and then, you would just like something a bit decadent.  And sugar really helps that.

#6 I could never do this long term because....I'd miss my coffee.  I can drink coffee with simply cream just fine.  But just a bit of sugar helps.  I am sensitive to the tanins and the sugar makes my coffee a more pleasurable experience.  The good thing is I think I will be able to cut way down on how much sugar I put in my coffee.  I didn't drink much coffee the past two weeks and I missed it. 

#7 I have now decided that I will be low or at the very least lower sugar from now on.  I can now easily have a smoothie made with fresh fruit, a bit of plain yogurt and now sugar and find it tasty.  Giving sips to my family, they find it tart.  I'd rather not lose that aspect of the past two weeks. 

My Biggest Encourager

One of the biggest blessings in my life is my son and the fact that he plays his guitar ALL the time.....in his room, in the office, in the library, in the den....
Even if he is only practicing, it causes me to stop and think. And here he is right now....
Playing and reminding me of God's desire for my life.

 I wasn't going to tell you this....It was my secret. So after reading this post, you can just forget it!
Ski and I had a long conversation last night. Well, it was mostly me doing the talking. Telling him of my frustration of my weight.
Yes that. I said it.

I never had a weight problem. It was easy to loose weight when my older children were born. In fact, I didn't even try. But with the onset of my friend, Hashimoto's, came this lovely thing called being overweight. I've been discouraged about it for a long time. I've been disheartened to watch Ski run....now close to 15 miles a week. And lose weight. Although, I am his biggest fan, there is a twinge of discouragement in my heart when he tells me his current lowest weight. And my family is full of health issues that would benefit from weight loss. In my teens, I saw my mother starve herself on Wasa and still make little headway. So between that and the fact that I am convinced that the diet approach is unhealthy, I was determined to find something that felt "normal." After a long search, I think I have found the resources that I feel are comfy. So now I have plans. Good plans. And a long road ahead.

But I have a hard time doing things alone. I need a friend. I need someone to prod me along. To help me out. And while I think encouragement is easy for me to give, it is the hardest thing for me to go without. I seem so easily discouraged! In discouragement, I reached out. And well, that didn't work out so well..... And then every time I saw that person I reached out to, anger gnawed at my heart.

And I reached out again and well, the same thing happened. And then there was a conversation I overheard that my Ski had not too long ago. At first I was angry because it had to be hurtful to him and it was so completely unkind. And then I was angry because of what it meant for me.

Now, this past month or so, I've found anger to be a HUGE motivator. While I skip meals....a lot....which doesn't help my turtle metabolism....I do participate in emotional eating. So I've been channeling that anger into exercise rather food. But still, there sits my uneasy heart. Because exercise with anger kind of can make you feel sick. On top of that, when I am hurt, I just say, "Forget it. I don't need ANYONE!!" Well, I'm wrong... So, I decided today that this anger thing needs to be dealt with and not just channeled. So after I sat here thinking about this, down comes my boy strumming and singing. And as he settled here in the den, I felt a tug at my heart. A tug reminding me...

A few years back, I had this relationship that meant a lot to me. And well, very long story short, God showed me that He wanted more of me. He showed me how I idolized that relationship and how He wanted to be in that place instead. And so, while I am not fond of being in a place where God has not given me abundantly close relationships, I have learned to be content where He has me. I have grown to love Him more and depend on Him in a greater way. And He has become my All. And so in that moment of hearing God speak to my heart, He said how this is about me and Him not me and a buddy of friend who can help me. I told you I was wrong. I need GOD!!!!
 He is my encourager.
My rock
My friend.
My biggest fan.
He is more than enough!  

Enough 
by Chris Tomlin 
All of You is more than enough for 
all of me 
For every thirst and every need 
You satisfy me 
with Your love 
And all I have in
 You is more than enough 

You are my supply 
My breath of life 
And still more awesome than I know
 You are my reward worth living for 
And still more awesome than I know 

All of You is more than enough for all of me 
For every thirst and every need 
You satisfy me with Your love 
And all I have in You is more than enough

 Youre my sacrifice
 Of greatest price 
And still more awesome than I know 
Youre the coming King 
You are everything 
And still more awesome than I know

 More than all I want 
More than all I need 
You are more than enough for me 
More than all I know 
More than all I can say 
You are more than enough for me

Legacy

I'm going to tell you something that I've been holding back.

My father is dying.

I haven't said anything because I know I see relatives on Facebook and somewhere in my jaded mind, I think people actually read my blog. I've been coping with this for awhile now. The people who know me well are probably sick of hearing about it. But it is a big deal for me. I'm actually going to go visit him soon. To say goodbye. Without saying goodbye. It took me a long time to decide if I was going. Whenever I say goodbye to my parents, I always figure that I may never see them again. But I also worked with dying people. Very often they wait. They wait for people to come or events to pass before they die. So after thinking and praying a long time about it, I decided to go and see him one last time so that he will not wait for me.

I also have a friend who is dying.

I've been thinking a lot about my dad. And my friend. I've been thinking about the opportunity that they have.

What would you do differently if you were dying? Is there someone that you would see? Is there something that you would do?

You see, the knowledge of our impending death affords us the chance to do things we might not have otherwise done. People have the tendency to live life differently in the face of death. They cherish their time more. They fill it with meaning. Even Christ did this when he gathered his disciples around him the evening before his death and ate with them. He shared one of the most important meals of the year with those he loved most.

In this modern society, we rarely think about tomorrow. We don't look at how much the small things matter. We speak harshly to our husband or our children. We mistreat people. We work too long. We don't call. We say foolish things. We obsess over material things and think little of those around us.

When I was a CNA, one of my patients KNEW she was dying. She didn't appear sick. But she definitely knew. Every night, she'd have important conversations with me. She'd tell me about the latest sermon she heard. She'd tell me to be sure and send her dress, the one she was to be buried in, to be cleaned. She'd give me sage and precious advice. And she talked incessantly about visiting her granddaughter's inn. In fact, she talked about it so much, on our day off, my co-worker and I drove her 2 hrs to have lunch cooked by her granddaughter, the chef. I will never forget that day. Not because the meal was so wonderful. But because she was so pleased that her face glowed for days. Not long after that, she developed a blood clot, went into the hospital and died. I do not think that my sweet friend regretted a single moment of her final days.

But here's the problem. You and I. It is likely that we will not know when our final day might be. It may be so sudden an unexpected that we will not know until we are in the presence of God. And that's what I've been thinking about.

There is so much in my life already to regret. While God's saving love has covered my multitude of sins, that does not mean I still am happy and pleased with all of my choices. And still....I continue to make wrong choices. I get angry. I am lazy. I say stupid things. I wonder....would I still make those same choices if I knew that I wouldn't take my next breath? Would I ungraciously criticize a brother or say those angry words to my spouse if they were dying?

So if we would act differently if we knew we were dying, why not act differently now? The question is...

What kind of legacy am I leaving?

When people look back on my life, will they think I was a loving, forgiving person? Will they consider my anger? Will they remember my foolish words? I am not convinced that the legacy I am creating is worthy of being remembered. And if I claim to be a Christian, does my life draw people to Christ or away from him? And worse yet, would my Lord be pleased? Will He look at my life and tell me that I have done well? Or will he shake his head sorrowfully thinking of how I have pushed others away from knowing Him? So, I've decided that I'm going to spend more time seeking after the things that scripture urges me to seek after. I don't think I can create the perfect legacy. But there are things I see that don't please me, and I can be different!!

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.
If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.

(Galatians 5:16-26 ESV)

I can leave a legacy of love.
I can leave a legacy of joy.
I can leave a legacy of peace.
I can leave a legacy of patience.
Of kindness.
Of goodness.
Of faithfulness.
Of gentleness.
And of self-control.

I can do all these things because Christ, who gives me strength, has enabled me to do so.

When I think about the days ahead when my father dies, the first thing I think of is how I will long to see him once again in heaven, healed and completely whole. I think of how I will hear his voice singing praises to the Lord. And I think of the joy I will feel to be reunited with my father.

I long for that day even more when I will be united, too, with my heavenly father and I long to hear how pleased He was with my humble little life.

Another

SEASIDE

Here I stand
Where the foamy brine touches the edge of the earth.
As I watch, the moments come and go,
Like the ebb and flow of a breath.
In and out.

I reach out,
Trying to fathom all that is spread out before me.
But the water drips from my fist
Like tears raining upon my cheeks
Down they fall.

I see now
These fleeting days are like the broken shells and rocks
Forming the sand beneath my bent knees
Rutted with the joys and sorrows
Of our lives.

Tomorrow
This day will be forgotten by the multitudes.
Yet I will remember this ocean
How it changed me and somehow left
Unnoticed.

~rag

*******THIS WORK IS PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR AND NO REPRODUCTION IS PERMITTED WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM AUTHOR. ALL OTHER USE CONSTITUTES THEFT ********

I Love, I Love My Calendar Guy.....

Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me will know that I am not organized. If, when you think of a large family like mine, the lady with 19 or so kids quickly comes to mind, and you think I run my household accordingly, you are sadly mistaken. I do have a strange kind of organization that I like to call organized chaos.

I am the woman who never wears a watch. I've never regularly carried one except while nursing a newborn. I do have a nickel allergy and the "nail polish trick" has never worked for me. That is my excuse. I am the woman who begged for a planner that she never used. My kids were never on schedule while little. They often fell asleep in the car while I ran errands and then never go back to sleep at home so it wasn't like a schedule would have worked anyway. The other reason for my wayward ways with time is my rebellious nature. There's just something about a schedule that feels unnatural to me and I long to fight it every moment.

My husband is the planner. I should have seen it coming. While dating, he did have a "spur of the moment" side which caused trips to the very tip of the Eastern Shore of Maryland for the day. However, we never stopped anywhere along the way because the goal was to get there...hopefully by a certain time. Thankfully, this has eased....mostly due to necessity of kids needing to stop to eat or use the restroom on long car trips. But to this day, if his pda or phone dies, he is lost. Once he left his daytimer on top of the car and drove away....leaving a trail of paper behind us. We parked on the side of the road and ran around like idiots chasing papers swept up by cars zooming past. I seem to recall it took him months to recover. People ALWAYS ask me about dates and arranging things. I glaze over and try and dream up more and more creative ways to say "Go talk to Ski!!"

Lately, we've been having a consistent problem with chores getting done. There is no sense to it because everyone has the same chores all the time. I decided that perhaps purchasing a dry erase calendar and a bunch of pens might help....and maybe a little variation. After much looking and debating, I found one the other day marked down at Target for the incredible low price of $5. Silly me. I bought it. I put it up late yesterday afternoon. Before I even left the house, I had a child ask me if he could write on it. Ski and I went on a date and came home late.

Before going to bed, I passed the board and made the mistake of asking Ski if he had seen it. It was then that complete madness ensued!! I had assigned colors and pretty soon, Ski and three of the Skibums were writing away on the board. In fact, the girls even called their brother down to write on it. Off I went to bed, shaking my head.

So this morning, I thought the calendar obsession would be over. To my amazement, I came down to find a child who never completes their chores doing a newly assigned chore from the board. I began to feel feverish and wonder if that nasty stomach bug had finally come to rest upon my household. Moments later, one of my children who had not been assigned a chore for the day started having a fit.

"I don't have anything to do!!! It's not fair!"

A voice of reason which was not my own said, "Why don't you just be happy?"

"Weeellll.....EVERYONE else has a chore!!! I waaaaant one!!!!"

My entire household has gone mad.
Calendar and chore obsessed mania has begun!
I can't win.
I think I'm going to procrastinate and go back to bed!

Waiting for Dinner and Imperfect Servanthood

Ah....
Here it is. It is the first day of Lent and if you read my post last night and see this blog posting on FB, you're probably thinking about how weak I am. I'll tell you, It was a HUGE temptation to me a few minutes ago to get on facebook. Lug out the laptop and blast away. It's funny how non-thinking we become when, in a moment, we can tweet or post a status and get something off of our chest. It isn't always a good thing. In fact, it's often not a good thing. I will confess that when I write on my blog I never proofread. You get the uncut version and all of the missed grammatical errors to boot. That's because I find it best to just write what is on my mind and post....or else I'll hit delete. But believe me...there have been times when I've deleted entire posts. Because I thought twice and considered what you might read here. But usually, it's the uncut version that you see here. Let me assure you. I am not on facebook, but I'm allowing myself to blog. I don't blog daily, but I really didn't expect to blog so soon.

I am sitting here after calming my old heart down and waiting for my beloved husband to come save the day with dinner. And when he walks in the door, he's going to get the world's biggest hug and kiss.

Late last night, I requested that dinner be prepped this morning. It wasn't too complicated. However, for someone who has never made it before, I wasn't too clear either. When I cook, I am not too precise. So I wasn't too precise in describing how this should be put together. Big mistake!! My crockpot ended up with 5 pounds of potatoes cut up and placed in the bottom. As you may imagine, not much else could fit. I had mentioned that the crock might be a bit full, but was full of assurances that things would cook down.

I arrived home around 4pm to smells of dinner. Now, you need to know that due to a few extenuating circumstances, my allergies are flaring big time and I can't smell too well. So as the evening progressed, I didn't think much of the fact that dinner did not produce the usual wonderful wafting fragrance. So around 7pm, I entered the kitchen in order to serve the dinner I had been looking forward to all day. As I looked at my crock, I noticed that something was amiss. The layers I had expected were not there. Things were quite peculiar. I opened the lid and no steam arose from the pot. I stuck a fork into the meat and.... Ack!!! It was rubbery and uncooked! Of course, all the while, I am freaking out and exclaiming that I didn't know what to do. Do I toss it all? Keep cooking it? Oh the drama I create!!!

It was decided that Ski would head out to scrounge something for dinner. Who knows what. And that's where we sit at the moment.

As the thought to go gripe on Facebook taunted me, I began to consider the Lord and what He had for me to learn in this moment. And that was terribly convicting.

In my heart, I had been so angry and frustrated at the dinner maker. Why were they out to ruin my day? How could they have done this senseless thing? And in those moments, God reminded me of how they were only trying to serve and bless me. How many times have I griped and been ungrateful when others have served me? If you're a mom, I'm sure you can identify with me. Your kids wash the dishes and you find water all over the counters from the rinsing. They clean the bathroom, but seem capable of leaving what appears to you to be a giant interstate of grime in the toilet bowl. They fold the laundry and it isn't done "just so." Instead of thanks, they get instruction on how it could have been better. Yep....true confessions. It stings quite a bit!!

And then He began to show me how I, too, am a terribly imperfect servant. How many times have I served with ingratitude in my heart? I am a grumbler. I sometimes do things I don't like, but everyone knows I am not quite happy about doing them. And when I try to serve the Lord with my whole heart, it doesn't quite happen that way. I am so easily drawn into things that turn my heart towards selfish ends rather than God glorifying ends.

Christ gave us the perfect example of a servant. But we may simply argue that He was divine so it was simple for Him. I don't think it was simple. But scripture is full of examples of grateful and faithful servants. And there are these people who were raised from the dead and got up and SERVED. Crazy, huh? So if people who were so sick that they died and then came back to life stood up and cheerfully served, I think I can. I mean, I think I would have probably gone to my family and comforted them and told them everything was ok and I was alive again. But nope. They just got up and looked for things to do. All God wants from me is my heart. He isn't too concerned if I do it perfectly. He's concerned about my willingness and the fact that I jump in there and do it. And if He isn't concerned about perfection, then I suppose I should just shut up and say "Thank you" when someone works hard to make dinner....even if it isn't perfect. And even if we can't eat it for dinner.

So Dinner Maker....
(although I've already said this, it's here for you in public and all of it's glory!!) Thank you for working so hard in order to make dinner for me. Your intentions were the best. You longed to make sure there was plenty of food for dinner. Rest assured, there certainly is plenty of food! You're a huge blessing in my life and I deeply appreciate your desire to bless me. I'm so sorry it turned out the way it did. Please forgive me for complaining about it all.

And it's all plan A....a lesson for me to learn about how ungrateful I really am. Now to work on changing that. Fun!!

Let's eat!!

Amazement

On my way home from our weekly co-op today, I stopped by Aldi. While in the store, my daughter admired a cucumber. She hinted at my purchasing it. In years past, I would have jumped at the opportunity. I used to be a big fan of cucumbers. But recently, as my latex sensitivity has increased, my love for bananas and cucumbers has waned. I don't relish oral itching so I brushed off her interest and walked on past. Headed on down the aisle, I picked up a few other things. Another child with me suddenly asked, "Where's Lyd?" Turning, I noticed her still with the cucumbers. I rolled my eyes and proceeded onward. Moments later, she came running to me exclaiming....

"Mommy!!! I have enough money I can buy a cucumber!!!" She then proceeded to rant and rave and literally jumping for joy over said cucumber. I looked at her and smiled and said, "Dear...if you want it that much, I will buy it for you."

A lady nearby said to me, "I have NEVER seen a child get sooooo excited about vegetables!!" Obviously, she didn't know my kids. They're kind of crackers!!

I told you this little story because as I sit here thinking of the events of my day, I feel the same incredible enthusiasm over my own children as my daughter felt over this silly cucumber. Especially as I watch my three oldest teens navigate the challenges of young adulthood. Life is hard. It is fraught with many twists and turns. There are great things. There are things that seem.....not so great. There are easy days. And there are not so easy days. It can easily become overwhelming to a young adult. And as I watch my three walk there way through these days, I am both amazed and excited about what God is doing!!

I think the biggest thing we have tried to impart to our kids is how to walk in faith. It is so hard when they are faced with a multitude of voices.....many of them good intentioned, but often not loving nor encouraging. Listening to the voice of God while He is teaching you lessons of the heart is difficult enough without the never ending distractions. I've watched my children learn that while there is wisdom in many counselors, seeking input from many who don't know your life is not always wise. I've also seen them learn great patience while many around them criticize the path God has led them on. And I've seen them willingly sacrifice repeatedly material riches for gaining deeper riches from God. Oh, the tears we have shared together. Oh the frustration we have known. And OH!!! The amazing growth that has happened!!!

And I have seen them learn that God's plan is better than our own, God doesn't make mistakes, God meets us where we are, and what I do today is of crucial importance in the eyes of God. I have seen them exude joy and take on challenges that I didn't expect. And to seize the possibilities and opportunities that God has given them moment by moment.

I told someone not long ago how difficult this time was and how I wished for diapers and chasing toddlers instead. But I think I have changed my mind. And no....it has nothing to do with all of the naughty things my kids have confessed doing all of those years ago. ;) I have truly loved learning how wonderful these three people are who live in my house. Despite the sometimes seemingly never-ending parade of heartache, troubles, discouraged hearts, and fear, there has also followed a sweet friendship and a love returned that builds me up and encourages me.

Just as I am not despairing over their lives, God is not wringing his hands over their lives. I am encouraged and find more faith for my own life as we walk through these days together. I hold these days in my hands and am truly amazed!!

And I think God does, too!

Decisions, decisions....Not all they're cracked up to be

As promised, here I am to tell you about test results. But oh....it is more than that. It's about not being devastated when things aren't the way you want. And about not falling apart when change knocks at your door. The things that I've been thinking through this week are far from major stuff. It is not life or death....for the most part. It is a minor bump in the road, but it came with no clear cut answer.

On Monday, Ski got the call from the dr with test results and the drs instructions. As soon as he heard them, he said, "You've got to talk to my wife!!"

As expected, peanut, tree nuts, and milk are all far above safe challenge level. It was a little bit surprising that even two nuts he had had low testing to before were now well above the unsafe numbers.

What was a bit unusual was that they told us both egg yolk and egg white are now about 2 times higher than they were before. Not only that, but they now want us to avoid eggs once again. Frankly, I was a bit perturbed. Honestly, I could not understand why they tested it in the first place if I had told them that he had challenged and was now eating them no problem. We asked why. But they said we'd have to speak to the dr and we were welcome to make an appointment to do so. So we did. Only thing is, his first available was at the end of Feb. Oh well...we'd wait.

I was beyond frustrated. What did they mean?!?!?

It used to be that everything was based on test results. But current thinking is that food challenge is the gold standard. Not that you want to do that on a whim, but if someone has passed, then why be concerned?

And then I had to do it. I had to go and try and prove I was right. I turned to my son and asked, "Have you ever had ANY problems ever while eating eggs?"

Sheepishly, he told me....
"They make my mouth itch and burn."

Whaaaaaaat?!?!?!? He had NEVER told me this before. And then I remembered it. About a month after he had begun eating eggs at home, he told me during breakfast, "I don't like eggs anymore." And then, I ashamedly recalled how I had scorned the idea and told him he should just eat them. Talk about a moment when you realize that you're a terrible parent!! I wanted to crawl into a hole.

When he was an infant, he did something my other kids had never done. He memorized what his food looked like. He often refused foods as well. Later I learned that his food refusals were strongly associated with his allergens. He never ate yogurt. He never ate eggs. We had a terrible time feeding him. We thought he was fussy. Or picky. But several months after we removed these allergens from his diet, we were surprised to discover that he LOVED to eat. And so he learned that he could trust me and I learned that if he refused a food, to listen. This became very clear to me when I had been trying goat cheese with him and he suddenly stopped eating it. I didn't listen. I still gave him that goat milk and while it was one of the worst experiences I've ever had, I learned a great deal from it.

So...whether it was because I ignored his concerns about the egg or the fact that he has OAS (oral allergy syndrome) and chalked it up to something like that, he never told me that the eggs were bothering him.

Now I was between a rock and a hard place.
Test results trump reaction.
But is this reaction?

So for the past week, I have been thinking, praying, asking, and researching.
And I've come to the following conclusions:

1) It is not normal to have itching and burning in your mouth after eating something.

2) With OAS it is extremely rare to ever have an anaphylactic reaction to the food. I think it is less than 1%. But food allergies are notoriously unpredictable. After years of only having mild oral reactions walnuts, I had full body itching after eating a desert with some in it. No, it wasn't anaphylactic, but it wasn't predictable. And in the past, Iz was a full bucket guy. He'd have minor reactions here and there and finally reached a threshold where he had anaphylaxsis. Now, I am not expecting that with egg, but it seems prudent to give it up.

2) After searching quite a bit, I did run across information showing that yes, you should do levels after reintroduction and yes, apparently re-sensitization can happen.

3)We can still do baked egg so our challenge has not been completely in vain. In fact some doctors advise their patients who appear to outgrow, but test out of range to only eat baked egg for a period of time and then later add in eggs. Baking without eggs is the most yucky part of being a mom to an egg allergic kid IMHO.

4)Frankly, he is not a huge fan of eggy eggs and is completely willing and happy to give them up.

5)We're completely going to let Iz lead us in this area. If something causes him a problem, we're not going to do it.

6)We're still hopeful and optimistic that complete inclusion is around the corner. We just need a bit more patience.

So for now...no eggs, quiche, custard, french toast or mayo.....or any other eggy things. It makes it harder for breakfast...esp Wed when we have co-op and I give the quick and easy protein for breakfast. But I've got ideas already!!

And I am not falling apart. I was completely confused, but I think the more I learned, the more I came to understand the wisdom in taking a step back. If we were talking about complete avoidance, I'd be having a harder time. But I think the baked egg inclusion is a happy medium.

End of an Era.....Beginning of a New One

Ski and I have been thinking for a long time about transferring the care of Iz to a local doctor. A little history first...

Isaac began his journey with life threatening food allergies shortly after his first birthday. It was the now infamous trip to the zoo that lead us to seek out an allergist. We went to one and came out with a list of 10 foods to avoid and a bit of paperwork. However, I was soon to discover that the allergist neglected to educate me on the use of epipens and that some of his paperwork had erroneous information on it....like giving goat milk for a milk allergy. When my son wandered a bit too close to death because of the poor care from this doctor, we decided to find a pediatric allergist. At the time, there were only two pediatric allergists listed on our insurance plan. One was in Columbia, SC and the other was in Durham, NC. We picked Durham and the rest was history.

Shortly after we started going there, we learned that this Dr. Burks we had chosen had something of a reputation. He had come there from Arkansas and rubbed elbows with the likes of Dr. Hugh Sampson. After a few year, he began appearing regularly on national news and they began conducting studies in peanut, milk, and egg allergies. The peanut study is the most well known, but the other studies are just as successful. They have a long way to go, but things are looking promising. I personally know a lady whose son is in the peanut study and has been from the beginning. It is exciting stuff!! Not only is it exciting, but it also means that people are flocking to Duke in droves. So the long wait for appointments and the long nearly 8 years of driving, deciding whether to stay overnight or do it all in a day, and the loooooong appointments were looking less and less appealing. I also disliked a "non-local" doctor who I felt I couldn't call at any moment. And finally, every visit not only constituted the physician fee and testing, but also a facilities fee.

So after much discussion, and especially after regaining beef which meant it was no longer necessary to ship blood samples to the Mayo Clinic for RAST, we came to the equally sad and happy decision of "going local." As if to seal the deal for us, I learned right after our decision to leave, that Dr Burks took a position of Department head at UNC Chapel Hill. So it seemed we would have had to make a decision either way.

Today was our initial appointment with the dr who I have been seeing for 2yrs for allergies. I began going there after I heard another dr in the practice speak on asthma at a food allergy support group. Not only did I realize that I had more than exercise induced asthma, I saw that this lady really knew her stuff!! I love my current doctor there and he's helped me tremendously. You can tell he really loves what he does and he wants his patients to know about their condition, why he is giving them medications, and how to improve their lives. Plus he is SUPER smart and allergic to cats, too.

After 3 hrs of skin tests, blood tests, breathing tests, and conversation, we came out with a handful of information that I basically knew, but had a clearer picture on.

Isaac is basically very allergic to everything indoors...cats, dust, dust mites...
and everything outdoors....every tree and grass they tested and two out of six weeds.
He's not allergic to molds so he can roll in the leaves all he wants.
He tests positive to soy, but that's most likely due to all of the grass allergies.
He's highly reactive to all nuts....except for the two that I'm allergic to. Go figure.
He's highly reactive to milk
He's highly reactive to peanut
Strangely, he is still quite reactive on skin test to egg, but we knew that already. He tested low on RAST so we challenged and he's been eating it for almost a year.
Sweet potato? I forgot it. Totally slipped my mind. I didn't even think about bringing it.

We dropped a medication.
We kept most of them.
We added one -- magic nose spray.

I knew Spring was a bad season, but we'd have flares Spring through Fall so this explains a lot.

We're waiting for blood tests for milk, peanut, tree nuts, but the dr didn't think they would be much improved from our last RAST tests which means he will still be nowhere near challenge level for those foods. I'll try to remember to blog when those come back. But we're not looking for anything amazing.

At this point, I'm ready to chuck everything in my house, rip out the nasty carpet and start again. But unless I am ready to live on concrete and builder board, I need to have some restraint. So little steps......

What Keeps me from Walking by Faith

I've got to tell you that today did not work out as I had planned. And it is in great part my fault!!

I don't wear a watch. I have a good excuse. Really I do. But because I've had a metal allergy for most of my life, I've lived my entire life almost without clocks. I don't wake up early. First....I am a nightowl. In addition, I think 2 yrs of 2nd shift work and perhaps that week in college when I didn't sleep at all have done a serious number on my Circadian rhythms. I'm working on that!! Honestly, I am. One of my Christmas presents is supposed to help me with that. I just need to give it time and I haven't started on it yet.

Thirdly, I am blessed to have an incredible husband who writes EVERYTHING down. A friend affectionately called him "Calendar Man." I seriously think I drive him crazy with my impromptu life. But I must confess that he is my stability...which (shhhhh don't tell) I honestly do need. BUT and this is a HUGE but....it doesn't work if I don't tell him. And that's what happened this morning.

I completely missed a drs appointment. I remembered it last week. And when I woke an hour after I was supposed to be there, I remembered it this morning. And this is going to cost me. Not just in time...but money. And I have a hard time with that. When I go shopping for groceries on a Tuesday, I try to never look at the new ads which come out on Wednesday. Why? Because I will chastise myself no end for buying something at a price of no more than 1¢ different. Yes...I have a real problem. So to discover because of my own fault that I will be costing myself a good sized chunk of change just for missing an appointment was hard for me to handle. I cried. And all day I've been thinking about it.

And then I sat down to read my email.....

Not one, but two emails regarding "suspicious" activity in the area. Oh boy. And with the news these days. There are so many desperate people.

So when my doorbell rang...I didn't answer.
And when it rang again....I didn't move.

But my husband come downstairs and opened the door. My curiosity led me to the hall....and then down the hall....and pretty soon I was moved to action. More on that later....

In those moments, God convicted me of how my entire morning was part of His plan and how I was walking not by faith, but by my own self.

I hear so many stories these days of how this or that group of people is out to get me. What will happen if this person is elected or if this country fails or if this doesn't happen. Trust no one. Believe no one. You've seen it. You know what I'm talking about. And I wonder....where is Faith in all of this? Doesn't the bible tell us that God controls the leaders of governments? Ok...there is prudence in using tools that we have to make choices. There is prudence in preparing and planning. But what if your plan fails? Men, governments and this world WILL fail you. Your spouse will fail you. Your boss will fail you. Your kids or your parents will fail you. Your bank account or your savings will fail you. Your health will fail you. This is why God tells us to put our hopes in Him. Because He will never fail you. Plan as you hard as you can and the unexpected will still happen!! What then? I'd challenge you to think hard about that. When the unexpected happened to you last, and you felt sorrowful or hurt or angry why was it?

For me...when I completely forgot about the appointment I had last night and God brought it immediately to my mind the moment I opened my eyes, my first thought was about money. Where is my faith? I've known for a long time that it often lies in my finances. It has been a long fought battle and while I've made strides, these tiny events in my life are glaring reminders that the trust still oftentimes lies there. I am as tight as they come. My mother who was raised in the Depression and saves everything and rarely spends superfluously told me I was tighter than she was when we were out shopping. She urges me to spend money because she knows I do not. It is not an admirable quality in my life because it is borne out of fear because I often place my trust in financial stability.

And then there's those emails. I don't fall victim to fear mongering often, but I've thought recently about the renewed copper thefts and how, "Boy....that would be pricey to repair!! We don't have the money for that." I spent a restless night not long ago praying and laying that all in God's hands. But these emails this morning....it was closer to home than the news I'd heard before. And once again...it was all about money. So when I didn't answer my door, I was trusting once again in financial stability.

But here's what I would have missed!!! An opportunity!!!

We have neighbors across the way who are the sweetest Christian couple. We've talked often. They are wonderful people!! I am not sure if their grown kids know the Lord or not. The husband's 20-something daughter lives with them and was heading off to work. But she couldn't start her car. Her dad's a truck driver and he was on a trip, but his car was down the road....a loooooong walk. She only wanted a ride to the store to pick up his car. On the way, I learned she works two jobs. She graduated with a degree in marketing and couldn't find work for a long time. She works for an insurance company and a clothing retailer. She said her friends have had a hard time finding work, too. She really likes her jobs and I am so glad I had the chance to talk with her and serve her. She wanted to pay me when she gets home tonight. I told her no and I insisted. Besides, I said....we run off to the store often and it wasn't a big deal for me to do it. But I am sure it was a HUGE deal to her. It is hard to keep a job now when there are so many people looking. I'm sure being late to work was weighing heavy on her mind.

So...I thought I'd write this post. Because I was thinking on the way home about a few things.

When I place my trust something other than God, it does a few things, I think.

It distracts me from what He wants me to do. If I obsess on my fears, I can tend to be focusing so hard on them, I neglect the things around me that God has for me to do. I can be thinking about stuff I want to get done and miss what God has for me to do.

It causes me to be self focused. Instead of thinking about how God may have protected me this morning from a costly accident or how there might have been some other purpose He had for me to forget my appointment, I wallowed in self pity. I thought about how much I had screwed up.

It makes God small. God is not small. And if you want to argue that point, go read Job.

We can waste so much life focusing on the wrong things and overlooking the real life, service and joy that God has for us in between. Christianity is laying down our lives for others as Christ gave us the example to do. It isn't hiding in my house. It isn't being afraid to speak. It isn't putting my trust in the wrong place. It isn't thinking that if I do x and y all my plans will work out the way I want. All of this reminded me of David Wilkerson and Elizabeth Elliot who stepped out in faith into situations that were dangerous because they knew God called them. And they stayed because of a genuine love they had for the lost. Anyone can do good -- Christian or not. But the good that we do comes from the abundance that is in our heart. Not to get. Not to look good. Not to be honored. It is the good that speaks to those in need who long for love and acceptance when the world and the people around them have failed them. Whether I preach the Gospel to you in words or not, my actions should speak to you more loudly.

I'd like to end with this wonderful quote from Nicky Cruz that inspires me to be more Christlike not simply in what I say, but what I do. For those who don't know, Nicky was a leader of the Mau Mau gang in Brooklyn who was converted through David Wilkerson in 1958

Two precious things that fascinate me about Christ: That he had active eyes, and always was there, looking at the needs of the people.

May my actions reflect the truth of scripture to the fallen world around me!!!